


Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Undead

by nicasio_silang



Category: Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Stoppard
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicasio_silang/pseuds/nicasio_silang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That one movie totally stole this title from me. FYI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Undead

_The lights come up on a stage populated only by two coffins, lying upstage-down next to each other. Presently the stage-right coffin lets out a small yelp. The lid is wiggled, gives, and is hastily removed. GUILDENSTERN extracts himself from the coffin and dusts himself off, a little manic. He takes a moment to calm himself, but gets a chill looking back at where he's just come from. Finally, he considers the second coffin. Pushes it a bit with his shoe and finds it heavy. Realization dawns. He raps on the lid._

GUIL: Hey, you, ( _knock_ ) whatsyername! ( _knock knock_ ) Come out of there! ( _etc_ )

_Nothing happens. GUIL kicks the coffin, and it speaks. It is ROSENCRANTZ._

ROS: Go 'way. I'm busy.

GUIL( _kicking the coffin again_ ): You're in a coffin. How busy can you possibly be?

ROS( _weakly_ ): I'm dead. It's very time-consuming.

GUIL: There now, you aren't dead. The body, while retaining some freedom of movement post mortem, certainly has no power of speech. With the notable exceptions of Christ and, reportedly, King Hamlet. You, therefore, having the power of speech, cannot be dead.

ROS: You're the one who said I'm in a coffin.

GUIL: Have you not been in castles yet not a king? We were on a boat, but never sailors. And you are not dead.

_The coffin lid is lifted an inch and ROS peeks out. GUIL loses patience, tears the coffin lid off, and hauls ROS to his feet._

ROS( _yelping_ ): NOOOooo...oh. ( _to self_ ) I'm not dead. ( _to GUIL_ ) I'm not dead?

GUIL: You're not dead.

ROS: You're not dead?

GUIL: No, _you_ are not dead.

ROS( _horrified_ ): You're not _dead_?

GUIL: _I'm_ not dead.

ROS( _relieved_ ): You're not dead! ( _embraces him_ )

_GUIL is caught up for a moment, but becomes agitated._

GUIL: So is that it? You're satisfied?

ROS: Satisfied?

GUIL( _stepping back_ ): You're _not dead_.

ROS: No, _you're_ not-

GUIL: And you're not the least bit worried?

ROS: Um.

GUIL: Not a twinge of concern?

ROS: It's just, I mean, I've been not dead my entire life. I rather liked it.

GUIL: What you were was alive. Currently, we appear to be not dead. And you are not bothered. 

ROS( _pathetic_ ): And I hate the dark.

GUIL: Personal safety seeming evident, tangibility demonstrable, and visual acuity comfortable, you feel confident enough to put this all behind you.

ROS: It seems the healthy thing to do.

GUIL: And above all you are concerned with your own health.

ROS: Something in the way I was raised, no doubt.

GUIL( _breaking_ ): You were dead!

ROS( _desperate_ ): So were you!

_Silence for a while. Much glaring and pacing to and fro. Both looks sideways at their respective coffins. They end up facing each other, down center._

GUIL( _after a beat_ ): Are you hungry?

ROS( _had been holding it back, clawing at his own stomach_ ): Lord, yes! I don't think anyone's fed us at all!

GUIL: It is unlikely. Nothing for it but to explore our surroundings, then. Seek out nourishment or the means to earn such.

_Neither moves._

ROS: Nothing for it.

GUIL: To not be dead is to be part of a society, the drive of which is the participation of the individual striving for survival and sustenance. As individuals who are not dead, it is within our responsibilities to support ourselves, thus supporting that which is the very basis of society. 

ROS( _echoing_ ): Responsibility.

GUIL( _correcting_ ): Labor.

ROS: The tending of herds. Mashing of curds.

GUIL: Give us this day our daily words.

_Awkward beat._

ROS: Do you think there are other people about?

GUIL: Doubtless.

ROS: And they'll receive us?

GUIL: Our due as friends of the court.

ROS: Without prejudice?

GUIL: It's not as if we're dead.

ROS: And if they question?

GUIL: We answer.

ROS( _as prospective good samaritan_ ): And who are you?

GUIL( _gesturing_ ): We are Guildenstern and Rosencrantz.

ROS( _reversing the gesture_ ): Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?

GUIL: Precisely. 

ROS: Where do you hail from?

GUIL: Nowhere worth remembrance. 

ROS: And why should I help you?

GUIL: We are friends of the royal court!

ROS: The court that had you killed?

GUIL: Untrue!

ROS: You stink of the grave.

GUIL: Slander!

ROS: Get away from my children!

GUIL: But we're _starving_! ( _breaking character_ ) Hopeless. We'll be ostracized. Burned at the stake and thrown back in the ground. ( _he sits on top of his coffin, dejected._ )

ROS( _sits down and pats GUIL's shoulder uncertainly, alarmed at the outburst_ ): There, now, it's all speculation.

_GUIL continues to be upset. ROS gets an idea, stands up and reaches into both pockets, pulls out both hands in fists. He crouches in front of GUIL and extends both fists. GUIL regards him with fond exasperation and taps both hands at once. ROS opens them. They are both empty._

ROS( _stands, guilty_ ): Someone's taken my coin purse.

GUIL: Grave robbery. The occupation of miscreants and perverts.

ROS: Have you anything left?

_GUIL stands up and searches his pockets, seems to come up empty. ROS is disappointed, but GUIL catches his attention and flips a single coin, hands it to ROS. ROS is adoring, placated._

GUIL: Off, then. To re-enter society, welcome or no. ( _they stride off to ROS's mantra of "Tails. Tails. Tails...etc"_ )

_Scene._


End file.
